


Was I Really That Drunk?

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Buried Emotions, Drunkenness, Hangover, Hidden Feelings, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-26 09:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12554272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: After a night where he lets himself drink too much, Flint worries that he let something slip.





	Was I Really That Drunk?

Flint’s head throbbed like a wreck crashed upon the rocks. He pushed himself up with a groan and surveyed his surroundings. He was in his cabin, thankfully. Beyond that….his mouth tasted like death, and he wished the ship would stop fucking rocking just for a moment.

“You’re awake then.”

Flint winced at the dry tone to Silver’s voice. He rolled over and retched on the floor.

“And I also see your stomach is no better than it was last night.” Silver observed.

“If you can’t be quiet,” Flint rasped. “get the fuck out.” He was in no mood for this. Was he ever in a mood for this?

He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get drunk last night. He knew that; he hadn’t meant it to happen, but the frustration eating away at him, the lengths he had had to regain his captaincy, to get the crew back under his sway, still clawed at him. He had wanted to put an end to the ceaseless roar that ruled in his head. And the rum had been there. He had had time and opportunity and he had given in.

He glanced up, expecting to see that Silver had slipped out of the cabin to avoid his wrath. Instead he found the other man just sitting there, regarding him with quizzical eyes.

“What?” Flint demanded. The fear suddenly rose up in his throat like an anxious bird. Had he said anything… surely he wouldn’t have. He never gave away anything, then again he rarely gave himself the opportunity to do so.

His hand tightened on the edge of the bed. If he had mentioned…

“Whatever it is, you might as well speak.” Silver said quietly.

Flint hesitated. “Was I really that drunk?”

“You appeared relatively sober for the entirety of the evening.” Silver told him. “It was only near the end of the night when you referred to Dooley as Cyclops, which seemed a tad unfair frankly, that I realized you might not be in as much control of your senses as you would prefer.”

“I can make literary references while sober.” Flint pointed out, half offended that anyone would think he  _only_  did that while drunk.

“I’m aware of that.” Silver said, shrugging slightly. “It was much more the laxness in in the way that you said it.”

Flint stared at him. The annoyance at being so easily read by this man, of all men. 

He pushed himself to his feet. “Was there anything else?” He asked mostly to see what Silver said, rather than he believed whatever came out of his mouth. Regardless, he still needed to know.

Memories of the night before danced fuzzily in his head. He remembered standing at the window for a long time, gazing at the dark waves, before finally surrendering to the black. He vaguely remembered Silver’s eyes upon him, and in turn, avoiding his gaze…for fear he would gaze too long.

“Nothing that will cause you any trouble with the crew, I assure you.” Silver said.

Flint nodded and went over to the wash stand. He poured some water into the basin and dipped his hands into it, scooping up a handful. He paused, letting the water seep out between his fingers.

“You said nothing that will cause me any trouble with the crew.”

“Yes.”

“So there was something else.”

Flint watched the hesitation war within Silver, watched him considering the matter, deciding what to tell Flint,  _how_  much to tell. It would have been fascinating to watch, had he not been consumed with the fear that he had given something away.

Silver finally made up his mind. “Right before you retired for the night, and I was taking my leave of you, you looked at me and you said…”So blue…like his.”

Flint swallowed and then simply splashed water all over his face before he straightened up. “Was that all?” He asked brusquely, drying his face on his sleeve.

“Yes.” Silver eyed him.

Flint nodded at him. “In the future, Mr. Silver, if I ask you a question, I would prefer you to give me the entire truth and not simply what you imagine I need to know. Understood?”

“Of course, captain.” Silver said easily. He headed for the door and paused. “I didn’t mention it because I knew it would cause you no trouble with the rest of the crew, as that seemed to be your concern.”

“Again, you assume to know my mind.”

“Was that not your concern there?” Silver challenged. “Tell me differently then.”

Flint hesitated. “It was.” He admitted, finally. “But as only I know the content of my own mind, only I can judge what might be concerning.”

“I understand.” Silver said quietly. He reached for the door.

“You’re not going to ask?” Flint said, desperate to see what Silver would say, to explain it away to nothing.

Silver’s hand paused upon the doorknob. “I assume if you wanted me to know, you would tell me.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Flint, waiting.

When Flint said nothing, he shrugged his shoulders again. “True that was another assumption, but I see that one at least is correct.”

Flint had no answer for him and the door closed softly behind Silver, leaving him alone with his uneasy contemplations and his aching skull.


End file.
